by Amanda Davis

In 2015 my cousin asked me if I wanted to go to a show at the Backbooth, and of course I said yes. This was in July, when I was still riding the high of Warped Tour—sure, Black Veil Brides had been rained out, but I got to see Never Shout Never, Pierce the Veil, and Asking Alexandria, among others. Not to mention, Blurryface and American Beauty/American Psycho had just come out. For me and my friends, emo was going as strong as it had ten years ago when From Under the Cork Tree and Almost Here took the world by storm.

My cousin texted me that there was a little show going on at the Backbooth, a music venue in downtown Orlando. Maybe I’ve heard of these artists, he says—it’s Aaron Gillespie from Underoath and William Beckett from The Academy Is… I didn’t tell him that “Phrase That Pays” has been on probably every Spotify playlist I’ve ever made. Or that I had “About a Girl” on repeat that summer because it reminded me of my high school crush. But I did tell him to get me a ticket.

I think the Backbooth has closed since then (or maybe it’s just moved locations. Correct me if I’m wrong.) But out of all the venues I went to in Orlando, this was definitely the most intimate. My cousin and I stood in the sea of people, but we were still almost at the front of the stage with how small the space was—and I’m not exaggerating when I say this was one of the best shows I’ve ever been to. Even though I got hit in the head with a rogue water bottle (but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t malicious.)

First of all, Aaron Gillespie is a great performer. And he was the whole reason I was there to begin with. My cousin was a drummer and he was a huge fan of Aaron Gillespie and Underoath. Actually, he was a fan of hardcore in general—but the only problem was his mom was super religious. So his whole ploy to go to the show was to convince his mom of what a devout Christian Aaron Gillespie was (which wasn’t actually that hard.) Definitely not Satanic heavy metal, right?

As a matter of fact, it was a super chill acoustic set. Gillespie let the music speak for itself, and the stripped version of “A Boy Brushed Red” that he played was awesome. It’s one of my favorite songs ever, and he did not disappoint.

For me, though, it was William Beckett’s set that really stole the show. And although I’d argue that there’s more to it than him being my favorite artist, I won’t deny there’s something totally surreal about watching your favorite singer perform from thirty feet away. This was a little while after his record Genuine and Counterfeit had come out (you know, it was that period when every emo band broke up and all the singers put out solo albums. But this one was good.) And I don’t care if it’s cheesy to say, but I was never the same after hearing “Hanging on a Honeymoon” live. I think one of his guitar strings broke at one point. But the show went on. I cried, cheered, and had a beer spilled on me—it was one of the best nights of my life.

After the show, everyone kind of milled around. It was a decent crowd, but there still weren’t as many people as I was used to seeing at venues like Hard Rock or the Amway Center. (My young, socially awkward self couldn’t decide if this was better or worse.) We chatted up a few people as we made our way over to the merch table, but it was when we got there that I had an internal freak-out—William Beckett was at the table, selling his own shirts and CDs. Communing with the common folk, as it were. And what was I supposed to do? As much as my social anxiety didn’t want me to, I had to tell him how great the set was. I mean, when was I ever going to meet William Beckett again? Not to mention, I really wanted to get a CD. (This was the beginning of my obsession—the summer before I’d found Santi at Goodwill and hunted down I Brought You My Bullets on Ebay. Now, I’ve got so many CDs I haven’t even added them all to my Discogs.)

Anyway—here’s the thing they don’t tell you about anxiety: half this stuff doesn’t end up mattering anyway. Do I still cringe thinking about what a weird little emo kid I was in 2015? Yes. But chances are, no one remembers the way I looked or talked that night except for me. And even though I was shaking, I got to tell one of my heroes that I enjoy his music. I also did get a CD, which William Beckett was nice enough to sign and which I still have to this day. He was actually really sweet; not that I thought he wouldn’t be, but I think we build up these ideas of celebrities that they aren’t real people. What I realized from going to that Backbooth show was that once they get offstage, all these musicians are just normal people. Most of whom are pretty chill.

My cousin also had a blast at the show; I think he got an autograph or a photo with Aaron Gillespie or something. I don’t remember if I ever thanked him for taking me along, but I hope I did. And when my aunt asked me about it, I told her that I had definitely felt the Holy Spirit that night. Which wasn’t a total lie.